


all debts are eventually collected

by piperaceae



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Burning Rescue Centric, Gen, Ghosts, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, i guess finally, i too want to murder someone for their research and use the money to buy a dish washer, no beta we die like thyma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23543968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piperaceae/pseuds/piperaceae
Summary: Although governor Kray Foresight's a man that cannot be called unlucky - after all, what brought his brilliant work to the limelight was a chance rescue of a young boy - his life has been characterized by unfortunate events, as of lately.let it be said thatnothingcould stop the great galo thymos. not even death.
Relationships: Aina Ardebit & Heris Ardebit, Burning Rescue Members & Galo Thymos, Kray Foresight & Galo Thymos
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. bad luck comes in threes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how did it ended up like this? it was only one kill, it was one kill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it isn't clear enough, galo's the person whose dead major character warning applies to, though worry not, no one else is going ghost here. plus although i willl eventually tag this work as angst it's not too heavy i'd say, i wanted to keep some of tone of the movie even though it's a crackhead au with a guy that got murdered by his hero
> 
> the alternative title was the haunting of a child, which while sexy, sadly wasn't accurate. so we're going with galo: the debt collector.
> 
> fair warning: i have no defined schedule of uploading so new chapters will come out sporadically, though i already have an outline written out. 😅 my school's workload, which is unpredictable, and some health issues that everyone once in a while deprive me of the ability to write.

Although Governor Kray Foresight was a man that cannot be called unlucky - after all, what brought his brilliant work to the limelight was a chance rescue of a young boy - his life had been characterized by unfortunate events, as of lately.

At first, all that the media noticed was awry with the Governor was his less stern appearance. He'd showed up once or twice to a public event held in his name with a few strands on his carefully slicked back updo out place, and then, on one occasion, his hair had been completely unstyled. It had been a curious sight, his pressed pristine uniform contrasted by his natural hairstyle.

Traditional media had applauded it as Foresight making himself more approachable to the masses and tried to guess what their darling governor was going to do next, while citizens joked on social media that Foresight had been replaced by an alien.

Promopolis' favorite politician partly leaned into the out he’d been given and on specific occasions reenacted his mismatched ‘look’. However, dismissing those specific - calculated - debuts, his orderly appearance returned.

All was calm for a while, and then, while giving a speech about the importance of Burning Rescue’s role against the Burnish menace, poor Governor Kray – overworked as he was for the sake of Promopolis – paled suddenly, and after stuttering out some excuses, left the stage.

Team 3 of FDPP wrapped up the event themselves, breaking into an impromptu speech about the continuity of the city’s support and publicizing their vacant team spot. At that, people in the crowd reported suddenly feeling ridiculously 'pumped up' - in the words of one of the interviewed women - though as soon as the last firefighter walked into the firehouse, that sentiment vanished.

The power of public speech truly is amazing.

Bad luck comes in threes (or so they say), and just like that Kray Foresight found himself for the third time in Promopolis’ spotlight.

Following his hasty leave, he’d issued a public apology to Burning Rescue, stating that he regretted leaving so soon into the public gathering and that he hoped the Firefighting Department was aware they possessed his full support. TV commentators had awed at the politician's dedication and directed their expecting gazes to BR, whose captain – Ignis Ex – had replied that all was fine.

The following day, Foresight Foundation's budget cuts to FDPP were made public, and for the first time in his career Foresight was under the public eye’s scrutiny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is really short because it's essentially only setting up the rest of the story, so expect the next ones to be longer. sometimes i write out of order, so i actually wrote chapter 3 before this one, so both chapter 3 and chapter 2 should follow soon to soon-ish but after that i'm slowing down homies.
> 
> next chapter: burning rescue makes their first proper appearance and kray deals with the fallout of the burning rescue papers.


	2. good things happen to those who wait

Waking up to Burning Rescue’s name on the paper, Aina had half-heartedly expected to encounter either a thinly veiled belittlement from Freeze Force (which, although she was aware both were branches of the Foresight Foundation created in order fight the Burnish ‘menace’. It distressed her to acknowledge they were sister forces) or another monthly dissertation about their mortality rate.

Whenever the stars aligned just right, some bored intern at Promopolis Insider would come across that data and then pass it unto their higher-ups, who – when in lack of other worthy news – would recycle it and make it a headliner. Every new moon the cycle repeated and every new moon the captain would come into the breakroom, particularly stony-faced, with a crumpled newspaper in his grasp.

Maybe with proper founding, better quality armor, and less improvised equipment, that wouldn’t be as dire of an issue. Lucia was truly amazing, but Burning Recue shouldn’t have to pull out of their collective asses new ways to protect both themselves and the general public when fighting burnish fires – which were way sturdier than regular flames – without proper equipment. Ha, even the paper agreed. _Even the paper?!_

Dropping her spoon into the cereal bowl she was eating out of, Aina jumped on top of the department’s kitchen tool and smacked the newspaper onto the table, startling the other two breakroom occupants.

“Aina! _Ugh_ , you splattered ever—“

“Shhh!”

Reimi looked at her indignantly from across the table, and Lucia, who was halfway under it and eating toast off her chest, guffawed in return. “Aina said: _shut up Pugna.”_

“Don’t be rude L—“

“Have either of you guys checked the news today? TV? Newspaper— _anything_?”, she enthusiastically asked, cutting what would have been a twenty-three minute long lecture about proper etiquette courtesy of their senior.

Lucia shrugged, crumbs raining onto the floor. “I don’t check the news. The news check _me_.”

Reimi took off his glasses in an attempt to ignore the mess on both the table and floor and gestured for Aina to get to the point with his free hand. Instead of verbally responding, she scooted the source of her eagerness in his direction, subsequently soaking up some of the drops of milk on the table’s surface, and poked Lucia with her feet. The blond sighed in defeat and got up, dropping her toast onto Reimi’s unfinished breakfast. He didn't even sputter this time. Just resigned himself to digging his uniform shirt from underneath the jacket in order to clean his lenses, the coarse material of the top layer unfit for the job, and peered at the newspaper.

In the middle of the kitchen/breakroom table, stood the front page article of the released budget cuts to FDPP and its possible connection to their infamous mortality rates – citing that even though Freeze Force was the organization in charge of directly fighting burnish terrorists, they were ridiculously better off than BR (their _civilian_ counterpart) in terms of member casualties.

It was laughably easy to spot the exact moment both of her teammates finished reading the report. Reimi – who, just like Lucia had progressively perched himself over the table as he read the news article in disbelief – threw himself back on to his seat, while Lucia yelled ‘Holy shit!’ as loud as her lungs allowed her to, over and over again.

It was at that sight that Varys walked into, after doubling back when Lucia’s first scream erupted as he passed by the doorway in search of the communal laundry room. Aina quickly filled Varys in and, as if manifested by the increasing decibels emitted by every single member of Burning Rescue, Ignis Ex entered the room.

Feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Aina interrupted her energetic explanation of the morning’s events and sat back on her stool. She risked a quick look around her surroundings and found everyone attempting to make themselves somewhat presentable. Lucia was fixing her plaid skirt and Reimi retrieving his fallen glasses off the ground – Varys had been the only one in the room who was still somewhat calm, and as such the only one whose appearance was still immaculate.

All it took was the captain to begin opening his mouth to Reimi break down into sweat, rapidly excusing everyone’s rowdy behavior and his own uncharacteristic conduct. Cap waved him off, walking past him to grab the remaining coffee cup on the drying rack.

For the first time in its lifetime the firehouse - apart from the sound of the coffee machine working away - was silent. Every present person opting to watch their captain’s back as he slowly went about his way to fill his cup and then sit down at the table.

“So, who did it?” he asked, blond mustache quirking up.

When no one replied and just as Aina’s soul decided that maybe leaving her body for the next foreseeable future was a good idea, he continued, “I’m not mad, I just need to know.”

* * *

“Heris! Have you heard the news?” Aina’s voice sounded through the phone.

Her voice trembled with barely contained excitement and Heris was instantly reminded of their childhood, when her little sister would come running up to her, proudly waving a crude drawing of two pink-haired girls holding hands.

Chuckling at the memory, she replied. “Hard not to, Aina.”

A staticky sigh broke through the speaker, Aina's enthusiasm punctured out of her like a balloon. “I never know what you actually get access to, with how cooped up you are in there.”

The elder of the two felt the ensuing awkward silence drag on. Her reclusiveness was a reoccurring source of spats, but her sister had to eventually realize that Heris was just as headstrong as she was.

Just as Heris dropped her paperwork to check if her sister had ended the call, Aina took pity on her and resumed talking. “The captain questioned us, but everyone in the team said they did nothing and no one has the balls to lie to that man's face, so it's safe to say it was an external leak.”

“Exciting,” she replied back, picking up her phone to stare at her sister's contact photo - Aina squinting in the general direction of the camera while Heri’s glasses sat on her nose - they had taken it when one day Aina declared that she was the sibling that looked the best in glasses, though in the end she’d admitted that Heris was the only one that could pull off circular frames.

“I know! The captain said that while a security breach was obviously serious, taking our state into consideration, he wouldn't have been terribly crossed about it if one of us had been responsible. Plus, we're celebrating this Saturday - he doesn’t want to go out today because it would be suspicious of us, even though we had nothing to do with the leak.”

“I’m glad,” Heris stretched her arms and leaned back into her office chair, staring at the pristine white ceiling above her, “I didn't know FDPP was this bad off, perhaps the Governor will do something about it now.”

Resting her eyes, she heard her sister hum. “I just wish things wouldn't have to have gotten to this point for something to be done about it.”

“That is true. I do hope you stay safe Aina.”

“You too..... Come home soon, _please_.”

Heris opened her eyes to her phone's black screen, Aina's last plea hanging heavy on her mind. She rolled her chair back to its original position and absentmindedly started at the view from the window right across her desk. It wasn't much, just another skyscraper and the harsh midday sun peeking from behind it. She stayed like that for a while, staring straight ahead and feeling her stomach curdle over what would eventually become another sleepless night spent at the Foundation while her sister stayed up, hoping Heris would come by the apartment. She had decided that she wouldn't go home unless absolutely necessary in order to expedite the project's conclusion, even if their bond strained because of it. After all, she was doing it for that girl's sake - even though she wasn't aware of it.

Eventually, Heris got up and attempted to organize her messy desk. She had a report to deliver to Biar soon and needed to find it under the miscellaneous project files she had collected inadvertently. Gathering up the papers, she skimmed her fingers through one of the sides of the stack in her grasp, startling herself when she cut her index finger. 

Reflexively, she looked straight ahead, spotting her Boss opening her door through the reflection of the room’s window. Now all the more nervous, she scrambled to get up and turn in the Governor's direction, accidentally smearing blood on her lab coat in the process.

He was smiling calmly as usual, but his red eyes gazed at her unforgivingly. “Heris, my dear, you're the one with a family member in Burning Rescue, are you not?”

She nodded and his heavy hand dropped on her right shoulder.

“If it doesn't interfere with your productivity, take a walk with me, please.”

* * *

The Governor had always been someone with impeccable manners, and as such, after their walk left her back at her office's front door. She stared at his imposing back rounding the corner, walking away to host a media briefing to righten the mess someone had been the master off.

Aina's happy tirade seemed so far away now.

Her legs kept shaking and shaking and _shaking_ and eventually, she found herself on the floor, hyperventilating. Her conscious knew she should drag herself back into her office, lest someone notice her and ask her what was wrong. What would she respond with? That the man that saved the city had threatened her because he considered her a liability, just because she had a family member inside the company's firefighting department? Even though she was the lead researcher in the Parnassus Project? Even though she stayed up late every damn day, every damn _week_ for the project's sake?

Except she couldn't find the energy to care when the icy fingers of a panic attack grasped her, remaning on the ground while coldness of the tile floor bit through her clothes.

She sat there, shaking apart until someone crouched in front of her. She hadn't heard their footsteps, but she found herself staring through her blurry teared up eyes at a blue-haired man, roughly Aina's age if she had to guess, sporting a fohawk. His completely out of place hairstyle and kind smile registered as bizarre and her brain finally gave up trying to rationalize what was happening today. She quirked a shaky smile in response, though somewhat maniacally, amidst the crying.

The stranger wordlessly helped her count her breaths and Heris felt herself gradually calming down as she followed through his instructions. In the aftermath, she was left shaken but feeling like herself once again, and turned her gaze back up to the guy sitting across from her. He'd ended up dropping the crouch, opting to just sit down on the ground cross-legged instead.

He looked visibly glad to see her more relaxed, and when she brushed the last tear out of her eyes, he pointed at her coat and spoke for the first time.

“You have some blood there miss.”

All Heris couldn't think of in return was that he was bloody as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lucia has no chest but that isn't going to stop her from eating off her own boobs, even if it means she has to be horizontal.


	3. one foot in the grave and one foot in clad cute socks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At first, Galo hadn’t realized he was dead.

His first clue upon waking up that something was amiss was when he walked into his kitchenette with a pounding headache, only to realize it wasn’t a kitchenette. But an actual kitchen, a bigass one at that. He’d only been in this exact place once before, but the white furniture, white floor, and white wall tile – the white _everything_ – was instantly recognizable.

Okay, so. Galo was maybe a little confused about why he was standing in the middle of Gov’s huge kitchen in the early morning of what he was pretty sure was a workday. In fact, staring at the digital clock on his idols' high-end oven, he could see he was right. It was currently 5:60 AM on a Thursday.

He felt something trying to break the haze of both his headache and sleep hazy brain. It was as if he was staring at something beneath the water - he could see its outline, but the waves on the water’s surface distorted it, making it impossible to identify. He stood in front of the oven for some time, gaze sliding down aimlessly until he was left staring at his own jogging pants on the glass’s surface. Hm, he had to change clothes soon.

His last neuron fired into action at that thought and Galo Thymos realized that if it was indeed 5:60 on a workday, he had to leave Foresight’s apartment _right now_ if he wanted to pop by his own place before class started.

Startled awake, he backtracked into Kray’s equally huge living room while trying to keep the noise to a minimum. Taking a look at the couch he had slept on, he found it neatly arranged. Heh, even half asleep he had unconsciously tidied up the couch Gov had lent him for the night. Way to go Thymos!

He didn’t remember bringing any belonging with him to Gov’s place, and a quick search turned up nothing as well, so Galo left the room hurriedly - sock-clad feet skidding on the black marble floor - trying to recall where the front door was located.

In the end, because of Kray's surprisingly weird floor plan – especially weird since it belonged to someone who was so stern about organization, functionality, and optimization of resources – he figured out that he had to pass by the kitchen again in order to leave. Skating inside, he hesitantly picked up the pizza box he had failed to notice in his first foray into the room, sitting on the modern-looking island counter by the fridge, and stole a slice.

While he felt bad for essentially thieving from Kray, it wasn’t like he was taking away the last slice. In fact, the pizza was still wholly untouched and since it was outside the fridge it had to be eaten quickly anyway. Plus, Galo knew if he didn’t eat anything right now, he'd most likely pass out while riding his bike, which wasn’t ideal – neither to him nor to other people out on the road.

As he left, he suddenly recalled that the Gov hated pizza.

* * *

With the sound of his very locked front door banging, Kray awoke with a start.

Throwing himself off his bed, ripping the sheets of their careful tuck underneath the bed frame with his haste, he stumbled to a stop in the hallway and saw nothing amiss. He continued on, flinging open the imposing double doors into his living room one-handed, prosthetic arm laid forgotten in his panic on top of his bedside table.

Nothing again.

All he could hear was the symphony of his heart's rattling around his ribcage and all he could see was his dimly lit living room, furniture unperturbed, air undisturbed.

Kray searched the rest of his home, peeking into the kitchen, then the front door’s hallway, finally backtracking into his room and peering inside his study. He palmed the light on with too much force and heard the crack of the plastic casing, but brightness still filled the room. 

Nothing still.

Everything was in its place, his disorganized paperwork, his chair, the dust lining his table lamp's surface, and the stains in both the carpet and the wall. This was the only room he allowed any type of mess to occur in, it was the only division in his house that was truly and wholly _his._

Cursory hunt over, Kray retrieved his prosthetic arm and took his time to look into every closet. Every nook and cranny a child could hide in his house. But all he found was the rodent’s corpse he had failed to deal with yesterday shoved halfway into the study's cupboard. Which, while a hazard, was something he’d handle after checking the lock on his door and having something for breakfast.

He mindlessly went through the motions of completing his two tasks and found himself in the kitchen after all was completed - one hand gripping the cool handle of the kitchen drawer sitting below his oven. He closed the drawer quietly with one hand, the other placing the retrieved coaster on the island counter's surface. Table set, he went to retrieve his breakfast (wheat bread toasts with slices of fresh cheese on top) and coffee from the counter by the sink.

His eyes met the offending pizza box resting in front of him, after finally sitting down to eat, and another burst of unease coursed through him. Another thing he’d forgotten to take care of yesterday _. Sloppy._

The sight of it irked him more than he’d like to admit and the irrational thought of simply pushing it off the counter and watching its contents splatter helplessly across his floor entered his mind. But to do so would be more trouble than it was worth, just another thing to clean, plus he refused to let anything ruin today. Albeit the rough start via his brain’s overactive imagination, it was still a beautiful - pestless -morning.

Kray rewarded himself by taking a minute to just be. To let the weak morning sun filtering through his kitchen’s window warm his complexion, heat mellowing away the tightness between his eyebrows.

* * *

Galo's apartment door stared back at him. He couldn't - no matter how hard he tried - remember his ride home.

His memory, or lack thereof, was officially starting to worry him. He couldn’t recall Kray’s invitation to dinner. He couldn’t recall arriving there nor having dinner itself. He couldn’t recall going to sleep, he couldn’t recall traveling back home he couldn't recall opening the door and stepping inside he couldn't—

—He couldn’t _recall._

Stomach curdling with his mounting anxiety, Galo focused on counting the many flaws on his door's paint job, trying to ground himself in the face of an incoming panic attack.

His eyes blinked open.

He didn't know how much time had passed since his freakout, but somewhere in to counting paint chip number thirty he'd closed his eyes and apparently dozed off standing mostly upright - all he was leaning against the door was his throbbing head. At least it wasn't hurting anymore. Well, it felt full, like his brain matter was pushing against his skull, trying to exit its confines. But it wasn't painful, it was just _there._

He braced his right hand on the cheap wood to ease off the pressure on his forehead, the material groaning in response at the added force applied to its surface, and curled his toes. They strained against the colorful fabric peppered with cartoonish firefighters encasing them. He'd picked them up jokingly for himself because he was about to finish his EMT degree, and in a few months, take his last application tests for the FDPP.

He sighed. Had he injured his head? He didn’t think so, but that was part of the problem too, right? If he had suffered trauma to the brain and it affected his memory, he could simply not remember it happening.

On the grounds of checking that possibility, Galo pushed himself off his door, forehead unsticking from the wood, and set off for his bathroom. It was nestled close to his bedroom - so close that both division's doors regularly interfered with each other if fully open. But given that since either of them had shitty hinges, he left them halfway open, although it meant he had to squirm inside in order to be able to enter. As such, it was customary to bang a random body part somewhere, and this time it was no different.

Galo half-heartedly registered his heel hitting the hardwood, but it didn't smart in response - overshot as his nervous system must be. It looked like it wasn't going to be registering pain anytime soon. Gripping his sink in his hands, the firefighter trainee stared at his reflection. He was—

—He was standing in his kitchen - wallet and keys in hand - finally all set to leave.

He’d been loopy all morning and uncharacteristically slow when normally he was already climbing up the walls because of excess energy at 6 AM. Honestly, Galo was kind of disappointed in his burning soul, he had responsibilities to attend to.

For the second time this day, Galo slammed a door on his way out.

* * *

One of the first things Kray did after the money from his research into fireproof material started flowing into his bank account was to buy a washing machine. As an undergrad student, it had been the _one_ task that irked him the most. Soggy food against human skin was never pleasant and he hated how long it took to scrub away grease from pans, even if it was just olive oil he had used to cook. But nowadays, sometimes he'd be in the mood to do menial tasks like washing dishes in order to clear his mind - other times in the mood for it because since it was no longer an obligation he didn't feel as annoyed. 

Finished with rinsing his plate and utensils, Kray placed them on the drying rack and shut off the tap. He reached for the towel hanging off the cabinet's handle by his hip and wiped them, taking extra care in ensuring his left was dry although it was waterproof tech. It was best to not tempt fate as it had the annoying habit of finding the smallest odds and latching on to them to upset Kray.

Dishes now clean, Kray busied himself by returning everything to its rightful place - coffee machine pushed back to its spot by the food processor, cheese back in the fridge, plate coaster back in the drawer - and readied to leave the division. Except he found himself in the doorway staring at that ridiculously loud box. It was distracting sitting out as it was in the middle of his all-white kitchen and its presence soured the pleasant mood he had been in.

No matter how many moments he took to enjoy himself, Kray knew he would always go back to being innerved if he didn’t dispose of it - therefore, he steeled himself and grabbed it.

A baseless curiosity afflicted him though, and careful of the grease staining the box, opened it, only to find a slice missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had some trouble with this chapter's organization honestly. originally there was going to be more switching between kray's and galo's povs because i wanted some scenes to line up so they'd parallel one another, but at the same time, i felt like it would maybe become too confusing and visually it was kinda messy. i don't like that many line breaks in a single chapter and without them, with only some extra blank paragraphs in between, it was still kinda weird looking. anyway, this was the result and i'm kind of happy, but at the same time not really with the result. eh.
> 
> i'm officially slowing down after this chapter though, shit's gonna get rough with online school real soon.
> 
> also: next chapter we go back to present time baby. let's see the sister's get stressed. let's see everybody get stressed
> 
> edit (19.9.20): sorry for the wait for the fourth chapter, but i’m gonna have to take a little while longer to getting around to finishing it up. :’( college resumed and my wrist remains a fickle bitch, so slow and steady is the name of this race! in the meantime, i’ve been making small edits on the old chapters, fixing some stuff and what not.
> 
> edit (12.12.20): i'm not dead! an update should be up somewhere during the winter holidays or near the 20th of january ;)
> 
> see you all soon!

**Author's Note:**

> galo said: no ecofascism on my watch


End file.
